


Akira

by Ghost_King



Category: Original Work
Genre: Multi, Violence in Later Chapters, angsty, lots and LOTS of angsty.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-05 05:55:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4168479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghost_King/pseuds/Ghost_King
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The outer world has no hold on the times of the ocean as the sea breeze ebbs and flows to its own rhythm. No conscious, no warmth to be offered in the crystal clear waters. It is a welcome emptiness that is seen before one’s self. A matter of life, death, and eternal immortality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. She

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EnnoidArika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnnoidArika/gifts).



She sits high, astride the railing of life and death, and she is beautiful. The short wisps of hair left on the dark skin of her head move with the hollow wind that comes from the abyss that is sweet death. She wishes for nothing more than to lean into the darkness she craves. But there are threads, worn and tattered but holding, keeping her from pushing off from the gross world that has offered no comfort, so she stays sitting waiting for her fate to be decided for her. And it is.

When she wakes she is broken, in more ways than one, and she wishes for nothing more than that her fate had been death. But a voice, fragile and small in her head, brings her further into consciousness. The women have left her, alone in the dark of an alleyway in the middle of a town worse than Hell. Her clothes are torn more than her skin but it doesn’t matter, everything is covered in blood, and dirt, and spit. All her possessions have been stripped from her person, thrown to the edges of the alley. There are people who pass by, but they take no time to stop and help a freak. In this town, she is the monster and her attackers are the righteous vigilantes.

But one beautiful light breaks through the dark. Almost too bright for her eyes, leaving her blinded for a moment, then her vision clears and there is an angel. He shows no disgust when he sees her. Shows no sign of terror or horror when he sees what has caused her to be left in such a condition. Just lifts her from the ground that is now soaked with her blood and the tears she didn’t know were there, and places her into his car.

Once she’s in he assures her that he’s going to get him help. It hurts just as much as the beating did. To be mistaken for what she’s not. Told she is something she hasn’t been, or ever been to herself, in years.

When they arrive at the hospital, the doctors refuse her, much to the man’s displeasure and confusion. They don’t explain just tell him to get her out of there and to not return if he’s going to associate with a monster like her.

He refuses to leave her alone, much to everyone’s chagrin so he takes her home. Luckily he learned from his run in at the hospital and gets the first-aid kit from the front desk before taking her into his room, where he puts her in the shower and leaves to let her bathe. While she’s in he asks her name, but she says nothing. Can’t say anything, her ribs must be broken again. That or her lungs have been punctured and that’s why her heart hurt every time he looked at her.


	2. Chapter 2

He wanders aimlessly. His heart as empty as the streets he shuffles down. Its dark and dreary, the light that illuminated the world gone. He feels no need to do anything, why if all there is, is deceit and sadness. He contemplates ending his journey early. Sending a letter to his family and apologizing for failing them all. But instead he gets into his car and follows the reedy little voice in his head that points him further into the shabby, gross city. He was told before he even got close to the city that it would be best to keep on going if he absolutely had to go through there. And yet, here he is going driving into the one place that has been described to be a place more vial than the worst prison’s on earth.

            Its only when he passes the group of primly dressed woman, they all look perfectly natural walking down the dark street in their Sunday’s best, but the blood, and grime that cover them and the weapons they carry with them belay a benign motive for walking the streets so late. So he heads into the alley the group left, their smiles darkened by evil intent.

            When he sees what can only be the remains of a poor hooker does he consider turning homeward and drinking this away with the rest of his life. But the voice is back, so he goes to check. What he finds astounds him, not only is the hooker alive, although just barely, it’s a boy. Of only 18 at the most. The boy is almost unrecognizable, skin mangled clothes torn and strewn across the dank alley. He wishes silently that the boy would die so that he wouldn’t suffer, as the boy must be, but he goes back to his car, throws the back door open and grabs an old blanket from under the seat then he gathers the boy up into his arms, wrapping the blanket securely around the boy’s bare, broken frame and places the boy into the back of his car.

            When he arrives at the hospital with the boy in his arms, he expects to be greeted with a familiar kind of medical buzz. But instead it’s a disgruntled pack of women who refuse to take care of the boy because he is ‘a disgusting piece of trash who deserves death’. The amount of malpractice he sees disgusts him. So as far as bad judgments go when he decides it’s better to take the boy back to his hotel room instead of driving around trying to find a place that’ll take him in.,

            So when he arrives he gets out and gets the first-aid kit from the front desk management before taking the boy to his room. It takes a little longer than he had hoped but once he got inside and got the boy into the shower, he felt a bit better. Though he was beginning to worry maybe something was really wrong, the boy hadn’t said a word not even when he had asked the boy his name. It was all a waiting game now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you bunches for reading this. I hope you liked it.


End file.
